


always looking out for me

by otachi



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 22:03:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18747991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otachi/pseuds/otachi
Summary: jared breaks his glasses. evan takes care of him. there's a lot of eye-rolling involved.





	always looking out for me

Jared’s glasses are on the floor. He knows as much only because he’d been wiping the lenses clean on his shirt when he’d been shoved (it was _probably_ unintentional - he should be heading to class now himself, somewhere among the tidal flow of students), and had promptly lost grip of the flimsy metal frames, sending them skittering across the linoleum. He knows they’re broken because he heard the lenses crack, a one-two splintering in rapid succession. He hadn’t been able to see it, of course, because when he’d glanced up from the place his glasses should have been, secure in his grasp, his vision swam and curled in on itself, like he was looking at the world from behind security glass.

His eyesight is bad. Not awful, not the worst it could be, but trying to walk in a straight line without his glasses on is hard when every step leaves him feeling mildly nauseous. He picks up what remains of his glasses (not much), and starts heading in the general direction of his next, and blessedly last, class. The floor undulates beneath his feet like a funfair ride. He trails along with a hand pressed up against the lockers on his right so he can remind himself the only movements he’s making are horizontal ones.

205, 206, 207, he counts along in his head. He can already feel a pain growing tight behind his eyes, taut like an elastic band and only growing tauter. It’s not going to release without a kick.

He’s not late but he’s cutting it pretty fine, and as he pushes the door open he can’t do much more than float his gaze across the room, squinting in an attempt to school the blurred faces of his classmates into something more recognisable.

He’s lucky in that while there might not be any strict seating plan it’s now late enough in the year that there is a well established informal one, and he almost-stumbles towards his seat next to Evan.

“Where are your glasses?”

Evan sounds like he’s frowning. Jared’s not surprised he’s noticed their absence, just files the fact away in the back of his mind as he rifles through his backpack for a pen, pulls out his history textbook, and sets it on his desk. Colour-coding things has never seemed so useful.

“Dropped ‘em,” Jared says without turning to look at him.

“Do you...“ Evan starts before cutting himself off. “How are you going to see the board?”

“I’m not, I presume,” Jared says. It’s a shame he can’t see Evan’s face properly, to catch the subtle quirk of his lips he makes when Jared’s said something that’s almost a joke. He knows it’s there anyway.

“Well, um, I can make notes for you,” Evan says in a rush, trying to provide a solution as quickly as possible. “Not that I wouldn’t already be making notes but you can, I’ll give you a copy of them.”

“Cool,” Jared says, and it means ‘thank you’.

History lessons involve a lot of reading. Jared’s short-sighted, not long-sighted, so while he does have to close one of his eyes every now and again to adjust he gets through the class without too much trouble. Evan murmurs under his breath the things he suspects Jared might be missing, quiet and nervous but apparently not scared enough of being accused of talking by their teacher to stop trying to help. It’s a more meaningful gesture than it sounds.

Jared drops his head into his hands as soon as the bell rings, watches the colours pulse in the darkness behind his eyelids for a minute and tries to clear his head. The idea of walking back to his car is a grim one, made even more unbearable by the fact the corridors are going to be crowded as all hell with the flood of students trying to leave. He doesn’t blame them - he’s usually one of the first to clear out, eager to be as far away from academia as physically possible - but it’s less than ideal given the current situation. He stands anyway, tucks everything back into his bag, and when he finally hitches it up onto his shoulder it takes him a couple of seconds to realise Evan’s hovering next to him.

“Hello?” Jared says.

“You can’t drive,” Evan says, in lieu of an explanation.

Jared stares at him, and then swears under his breath. He’d somehow managed to avoid that particular revelation, had just been looking forward to being home and not having to deal with the way his stomach keeps rolling. He’s pretty sure he has another pair of glasses somewhere in his room, hidden away in the back of one of his drawers, waiting for just this kind of a moment. They might be his old prescription, but they’ll do in a pinch, while he waits to get a new pair. The whole situation was going to stop being a real problem as soon as he clocked out of school. Was, meaning is no longer. Not being able to drive home throws a bit of a wrench in the works.

“Whatever,” Jared says, too thrown to think up a snappy rejoinder. It’d be wasted on Evan in the first place. “Let’s just get out of here. We can worry about that later.”

Evan follows a couple of steps behind him at all times, like a light trail. Jared doesn’t say anything, but he wishes Evan would take the lead for once, wonders what he’d have to do to push him into it. Staring at his back instead of the constantly moving crowd would probably mean less of the horrible kaleidoscope effect he’s having to deal with. Jared’s feeling a little unsteady on his feet, though he’s loathe to admit it. He’s certainly not grounded enough to start pushing his way through to the parking lot.

He turns towards Evan for a split second, tells himself he’s not a little worried about losing him in the crowd. Evan notices, of course, because as much as Jared would like to pretend he’s as spacey as he acts he’s really too observant for his own good, and Jared would wager he’s being hyper-vigilant now in particular. He assumes that’s why Evan reaches out and snags the sleeve of his button down with one hand, tugs him backwards just enough to slow him down.

Jared glances back over his shoulder.

“What?"

Evan frowns and tugs again, pulls Jared over to one side of the hallway, where they’re slightly less in people’s way (but still too much for Jared’s liking).

“Do you not want to wait for people to clear out?” Evan says.

“Eh, I honestly just want to be outta this shithole. It’s no big deal. It’ll only be a couple minutes.”

Evan scoffs instead of replying. He only does that sort of thing for Jared, or only _intentionally_ does it for him, which is a little flattering, or would be if it wasn’t code for ‘you’re being exceptionally stupid right now’.

“You’re going to trip over something,” Evan says. “Your eyesight is really bad. You’re not impressing anyone by pretending it’s fine.”

Jared rolls his eyes, and then regrets it when he feels his head ache, just a little. People don’t ever really roll their eyes in real life, or at least they do it a whole hell of a lot less than the books he’s read would have lead him to believe. Probably because it’s never actually a subconscious response - it’s difficult, and kind of weirdly uncomfortable, and Jared only does it because it’s sort of dramatic and aforementioned books always made it seem like the kind of thing the cool, aloof sidekicks did. Not that Jared considers himself a sidekick (and especially not a sidekick to Evan, who’s too much of an asshole, however subtly, to ever be a protagonist).

Evan exhales hard through his nose. They’ve gotten good at this nonverbal communication thing, mostly because at least half of their conversations only serve a means to convey their mutual exasperation with each other.

Evan doesn’t let go of Jared’s sleeve when he starts walking again, just moves so he’s holding his wrist, loosely, instead. Jared doesn’t comment, too thrown to immediately protest, and then too busy focusing on moving to bother bringing it up. It’s completely unnecessary, he thinks but doesn’t voice.

Evan lets go when they reach the stairs, aware enough to understand that pulling Jared down the steps is probably a bad idea. There’s a railing for him to hang onto, at least, not that Jared really needs it. He can see, he’s not incapacitated - the blurriness is just _annoying_ , and vaguely uncomfortable. Evan knows that, he’s sure, so he can’t quite figure out why he’s bothering. It would be a very strange thing to do for show. Maybe he’s trying to make a point about Jared’s incapability.

When they’re on flat ground Evan reaches out again, pointedly. Jared thinks about pulling back, telling Evan how unnecessary it is, how he doesn’t need any help, thank you very much, but when Evan slips his hand into Jared’s his thoughts catch for just long enough that it would be weird, were he to protest now. He curls his fingers around Evan’s instead, for lack of anything better to do. Evan’s palm is warm, and Jared would make a remark about it being sweaty (because he knows Evan’s self-conscious about that kind of thing, and it’s always an easy barb) except it’s patently false, and he doesn’t want to acknowledge that he’s actually thinking about the fact that they’re holding hands.

Evan does let go, properly, when they’re outside. Jared doesn’t miss the contact. When he wipes his hand on his pants it’s because the phantom touch is making him feel twitchy.

“So…” Evan begins, and then doesn’t finish, like it’s only a prompt for Jared to say something better.

“I guess we could walk,” Jared says.

It’s not a pleasant thought - he doesn’t live far from school, but it’s enough of a distance that it’s usually worth the effort (and fuel cost) involved in driving in place of it, even when he’s feeling 100% and walking is pretty effortless. And he can admit to himself now, when he’s not in an enclosed space, and the horizon seems to stretch out forever, wobbly and unfocused, he’s really not feeling 100%. He doesn’t usually think of his glasses as a kind of safety blanket, but now, without them, he’s feeling a touch vulnerable. He can’t see properly, obviously, which is definitely a part of it, and he’s having to rely on Evan far more than any reasonable person would ever want to, but there’s more to it than that, something he can’t put into words. Like he’s lost some layer of protection.

Evan nods, and then mumbles an agreement like he’s worried Jared might have missed the movement.

“We definitely can’t get the bus,” Jared says. “Not that I’d want to anyway, given that school buses are a microcosm of the vilest parts of humanity, but the motion sickness might actually kill me.” He pauses. “Just for the record the vilest parts of humanity are like, hipsters and debate students.”

Jared was on Model UN, but that’s not really the same thing.

“Okay,” Evan says, bemused.

Jared sets off, because now they’re out of the building Evan’s become oddly passive again (and kind of concerned looking), and if Jared doesn’t do something they’ll be stood there for another 10 minutes, pointlessly.

He’s walking a little too quickly for it to be casual -  there’s some kind of nervous energy making its way down his spine, and he feels twitchy and electric. If he tries to focus on anything his head starts to ache though, dully, so he’s consciously trying to keep his vision kind of fuzzy. It’s hard work, and it’s probably doing more harm than good, but it’s nice to feel like he’s achieving something. Evan’s following him at a normal pace, because, damningly, he’s got enough height on Jared that he doesn’t have to speed up.

Whatever’s been bugging Evan seems to pass after a few minutes of walking, because his expression gradually clears, and then suddenly he’s back to being weirdly overbearing, glancing at Jared’s feet every now and again like he needs to watch to make sure he doesn’t trip. Knowing Evan’s watching makes Jared feel like he’s about twenty times more likely to trip than when he wasn’t, but he doesn’t say anything about it, just keeps his gaze skyward when he’s not looking at Evan. It’s not like his glasses breaking is even important, but if Evan wants to pretend he’s doing something important, just this once Jared’s not going to correct him.

They’re not talking, which isn’t totally abnormal for them, but the quiet’s starting to grate on Jared a little, clashing with the restless feeling thrumming under his skin. He stops abruptly, and it takes Evan a couple of steps to realise he’s lost Jared, before he turns around, looking worried. Jared fumbles with the zipper on his bag, cradling the backpack awkwardly in one arm as he digs around in it. He hears Evan approach, but doesn’t glance up, intent on figuring out where in the hell he left his earphones.

He pulls them out a couple of seconds later, and presents them triumphantly to Evan, tangled in a clump in his palm.

“Your earphones…?” Evan says, dragging out the question like he’s not sure how he should be finishing it.

“You should be grateful, that I’m sacrificing the high-quality surround sound audio experience just so you can listen too.”

Evan frowns but doesn’t refute him, so Jared pulls his phone from his pocket and connects the earphone jack, after a few failed attempts, before offering one of the earbuds to Evan.

“Thanks,” Evan says, sounding like he wishes Jared hadn’t bothered. There's enough drama to it that Jared's sure it's put-on.

He huffs in return, exaggerated so he knows Evan can hear it, and pulls up his Spotify.

Evan leans down and zips Jared’s bag back up. Jared’s occupied himself with trying to figure out what to play, taking the time to care even though Evan’s going to criticise him no matter what he puts on. Jared slips his bag over his shoulder when Evan holds it out for him, unthinkingly, and follows along when Evan starts walking off. He probably would’ve done so even if they weren’t literally attached by a cable, but the tug gets his attention.

Jared’s music taste is bad. He knows it’s true, that there’s a reason the bands he likes are so ‘indie’ he’s never been able to make it to a concert. He’s had enough people tell him so, too, (mostly online, though Evan’s snide remarks are a constant companion), but it’s not like being criticised has never stopped him before. Plus he’s pretty sure Evan doesn’t actually dislike the stuff he plays either, that he’s only doing it because he knows it’ll annoy Jared. Evan seems to like every possible genre of music. It’s kind of disgusting.

Jared whistles tunelessly along to the beat as best he can - which is not at all. The side-eye Evan’s giving him suggests that he’s not the only one horribly aware of how off-key he is. He shoves his hands into his pockets and runs a thumb over the creases of his phone case, continues making noise (it’s nothing more than that at this point), and tries not to grin as Evan rolls his eyes. Evan might be a little blurrier than usual, but it doesn’t stop Jared from cataloguing his body language immediately. He’d know what Evan rolling his eyes looked like from half a mile away. His almost-discontent is as comfortable as anything ever gets.

Evan walks past him, just a step, before speeding up so quick Jared stumbles in his attempts to match his pace, has to physically hold his earbud against his ear so he doesn't lose it. It’s not even a joke, but he laughs anyway, because Evan's best when he's being an ass. It's a weird kind of reassurance in itself, like everything else over the past few hours has been. It should be annoying more than it's endearing, but Jared’s never been too great at keeping that sort of thing straight.

He feels wistful, almost, like he should be doing something in return. To acknowledge the weirdness. He wants to be snarky, say something a little awful and see Evan seize up like he wants to laugh but knows he shouldn’t. There's something about the empty air that makes him feel like it needs to be filled.

He skips forward a little instead, reaches out and snags one of Evan’s hands with his own, swings it between them like a child and hums. The horizon is warm along the edges. If he squints it could be anything he wants it to be.

“Take me home, Evan,” he says, half a joke, exaggerated, and Evan smiles the same way he rolls his eyes. Jared doesn’t see it, but he’s never had to.

**Author's Note:**

> title from radar detector by darwin deez
> 
> i wrote most of this a month (? two months?? who knows how long) ago and i just sort of slapped an ending on it today because i wanted to make sure it got posted, even if its not necessarily the most coherent thing ever. or like.. purposeful. sorry i haven't been posting much. i KNOW this makes like no sense. its just words. but its something
> 
> [@goldspill](http://goldspill.tumblr.com) on tumblr if you're into that kind of thing, though i mostly post about anime nowadays. mid december will be updated at some point
> 
> thank u for reading <3


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